


better late than never

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 00:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15158405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: After getting traded away from the Aces and retiring early due to health issues, Jeff Troy returns to Vegas to work for the local sports network. Kent isn't quite sure how to deal with having Jeff back in his life.





	better late than never

**Author's Note:**

  * For [malreves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/malreves/gifts).



> I had this prompt: "Something cute about Kent like moving on with his life and finding a boyfriend/mayb coming out? (Even if the boyf is a Dog Person, Kent will live)." It was for any pairing so I opted for Kent/Swoops.
> 
> I'm not 100% sure if the "canon divergence" tag is appropriate, since there isn't anything about these two in canon anyway, but I just wanted to make clear that they're not both playing hockey. 
> 
> I wrote this fic as a pinch hitter and I honestly couldn't have finished it this quickly without my wonderful beta. 
> 
> Dear minyrrds, I really hope you like it!

In his nine years in the league, Kent has come to expect many things. With all the trades, and the injuries and the emergency call-ups, there aren’t many certainties in hockey. But as much as Kent has learned to expect the unexpected, there are some things that will throw him off.

Like casually strolling down the hallway of the Aces’ practice rink and nearly walking into Jeff Troy. 

See, Jeff Troy hasn’t set foot in this rink since… Kent isn’t even sure. May 2013? Really, it’s been five years. Five years since he last walked down this hallway with Jeff, five years since Jeff was on his line, five years since they were teammates.

“Troy?” Kent says and stops dead before he bumps into him.

Jeff is here with the entire Vegas Sportsnet crew. They’re likely here for the Little Aces Program. Kent has already been told that he’ll be expected to do an interview after he skates with the kids, so he was expecting the cameras and he was expecting Vegas Sportsnet’s reporter Gregory Nash, who’s standing next to Jeff with a bright smile on his face.

Kent actually doesn’t hate Greg Nash. Or at least he’s more pleasant than the rest of his crew. Kent really wasn’t sad at all when Tim Ferris retired at the end of last season. Ferris always had a lot to say about things that were really none of his business, especially after Zimms came out two years ago. Zimms didn’t end up being the only coming out that summer, but there are more than enough guys who are still keeping their mouths shut, mostly because of guys like Ferris, or because they don’t feel like dealing with the media circus. Kent is one of them. 

He just wasn’t in the mood for the hassle, for the interviews, and most of all he wasn’t in the mood for all the comments he’d get from people who thought they knew anything about him or his life. There’s a good chance that people have figured it out by now, but Kent won’t make it easy for everyone and confirm it. 

“Parse,” Jeff says and he smirks. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, pretty good.” Kent raises his eyebrows at Jeff. “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t add, _And why didn’t you fucking tell me that you’d be in town?_

Mostly because Greg and his camera crew are standing right there, but also because Kent has to admit that he hasn’t really been making an effort to keep in touch with Jeff either. They haven’t talked in months and Kent feels a sudden pang of guilt. 

They tried to keep each other updated on their lives when Jeff was traded to New York five years ago, because the Aces didn’t have enough cap space to re-sign him and so they traded him as far away from Vegas as possible. They got a pretty good deal for Jeff, but seeing how Jeff was tearing it up over in New York was actually painful, because Kent knew he could have had that guy on his line. 

They only saw each other twice a season then and, sure, if they could they went out for dinner together to catch up, and sometimes they saw each other in the summer, but Jeff never liked staying in Vegas for the summer, so he always went back to Ontario and Kent stayed in the desert to train. 

He made Vegas his home. He had to. Because his actual home hasn’t felt like home in a long, long time. Even when he was in juniors, he spent a chunk of his summers with the Zimmermanns in Montreal. Those aren’t places he can go back to. Those aren’t places he _wants_ to go back to. 

He understands now that going back will never make him happy.

So he looked forward and focused on his life in Vegas. He signed a contract extension last summer. He’s staying, and Vegas is his city, his home, and he’s not going anywhere. He wishes Jeff could have been here with him for a few more years. 

Jeff had to retire early last summer after missing half the season because of health issues. Blood clots. Jeff didn’t want to talk about it much when Kent called him to ask him if he was okay or if he needed anything. Kent hasn’t seen Jeff in person since last season. 

It’s strange to see him now. In Vegas. He hasn’t changed much; he’s still the same old Jeff and Kent almost wants to hug him. 

Jeff was such an important part of this team. He joined the team the same year Kent did,only Jeff had already spent two years in the AHL. They were both new in town, both trying to earn the respect of their teammates. In the beginning, Kent only saw Jeff as his competition, but he quickly learned that they were very much in the same boat. 

For a while, after Jeff got traded, the Aces didn’t really feel like the Aces anymore. 

“It’s not official yet,” Greg says and gives Jeff a pat on the back, “but Jeff here will be joining our broadcast team next season.”

Kent isn’t sure what his face is doing right now, but he needs to get it under control. He clears his throat. “Oh, really?”

“We’re doing a video for the website on the Little Aces and we thought it would be a good time to introduce our new man at the desk,” Greg says, looking awfully pleased with himself. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to have him back.”

“Yeah,” Kent says. He gives Jeff a pat on the back. “I gotta run, but… I’ll see you around, I guess?”

Jeff nods. “I’ll text you.”

Kent quickly walks down to the locker room. He’s supposed to be ready in about five minutes and he hasn’t even started putting his gear on. Well. He has a good excuse. Running into Jeff wasn’t supposed to be part of his morning. 

As he pulls on his skates, Kent is feeling strangely giddy. It almost feels like Jeff is back on his team, even though in reality he likely won’t see a whole lot of Jeff. He’ll be up in that broadcast booth, commenting on the game, talking things through during breaks. 

Kent knows that Jeff is a good guy for that kind of job. He knows a bunch of the guys on the team, has played with a handful of them, and he actually knows what he’s talking about. Jeff has always been very diplomatic, very conscious of what he says, and Kent can’t say that he minds having someone who won’t talk trash about players unnecessarily up in that booth. 

Sunny is already on the ice when Kent gets out there and he’s over by the glass, where Greg and his crew are setting up their equipment. No kids yet. They have about fifteen more minutes before the invasion. 

“Parse,” Sunny shouts and points at the glass. “It’s Swoops.”

Kent laughs. “I know.”

“Ugh, of course you do.” Sunny shakes his head and pushes up his mask. “Troy. Hey, Troy. Look at me.”

Jeff turns around and Sunny sticks his tongue out at him. Sunny gets an eye-roll in return.

“Babe, I love you,” Sunny shouts. He grins at Parse. “Do you think he already regrets coming back?”

Probably, but Kent still sincerely hopes that he doesn’t. 

*

Kit is waiting for Kent when he gets home that evening. The desert heat was unforgiving today and he’s sweaty and he really just wants to jump into the pool, but he has to at least somehow work his way through the existential crisis he’s currently having.

“Princess,” Kent says as he picks up Kit, “I have important news.”

Kit starts purring when Kent starts scratching her under her chin. 

“Jeff is back in town.”

With an indignant meow, Kit squirms away from him and leaves to curl up on the couch. 

“Sure,” Kent says, “be like that.”

Kent doesn’t have all the details yet, but if Jeff is joining the local broadcast team, he’ll be around all season, for every single game. He might even be around for practice every now and then. He’ll live in Vegas and they’ll hang out. 

“I just don’t get why he didn’t say anything,” Kent goes on.

Kit clearly couldn’t give less of a shit. She’ll probably try to murder Jeff the next time he walks in through the door, just like she tries to murder everyone else, because she’s forgotten that they were friends once. She was still a tiny ball of fur back then. A tiny ball of fur with really sharp claws. 

Kent sits down next to her, because he knows she’ll come to him eventually. 

He’s not sure why Jeff’s reappearance is throwing him off this much. He still can’t quite figure out how he feels about it. He mostly feels guilty because he hasn’t been in touch as much as he should have been, but there’s also that other thing.

That other thing that he hasn’t been thinking so much about recently.

See, when Jeff got the call that he’d been traded five years ago, he was still in Kent’s bed. Fast asleep. Buck-naked. That’s the other thing. Kent has very successfully managed to not think about that for a long, long time. 

It was just sex, really. Good sex. 

Kent barely remembers the first time. He was drunk and lonely and he’d just won the Stanley Cup a few days earlier. It was the day of the parade. No one wants to be lonely on a day like that. Jeff came home with him late that night, and they took off their shoes and they stood in Kent’s hallway, close enough to touch, and then they _were_ touching, and then they were kissing, and all it took for them was a moment where they stared eat other for a few seconds too long and saw each other for real for the first time. 

They kept hooking up because it was convenient, but they had a deal. Their friendship would always be more important than sex. When Jeff left, they didn’t hook up anymore. 

Kent tried to get Zimms back. 

Kent failed at getting Zimms back. 

He hit a bit of a rough patch. Then Zimms won the Cup and he kissed his boyfriend on TV. Then Kent called Jeff and said, “Did you see?”

And Jeff said, “Yeah… Are you going to…?”

“No,” Kent said. “Are you?”

“No,” Jeff replied.

And after that they never spoke of it again. They never talked about what they used to be. Kent never wanted to talk about it, because he didn’t want to think about what Jeff was to him. 

Back then, part of Kent was still hung up on Zimms. When Jeff was in his bed, though, he never thought about Zimms. Jeff wasn’t a substitute. He was something else, but Kent never even let himself think about what he was feeling.

And that’s okay. He was okay with that. He’s still okay with it.

All of that happened five years ago. 

It happened five years ago, but Jeff is back in Vegas now and Kent is somehow losing his shit because of it. 

Kit stretches and pads over to him to climb into his lap. 

“Oh, so we’re friends again?” Kent says softly and starts stroking her fur. “Are you gonna listen to me now?”

Kit puts her paw on Kent’s hand. 

“So, as I said. Jeff is back. And when I saw him today… I guess I was just surprised. It’s just… he showed up here and I didn’t know he was going to show up.”

Kent knows that shouldn’t throw him off like it did. 

He knows, but he chooses to ignore it. At least for now.

*

They meet up for smoothies the next day at the place they always used to go to when Jeff was still on the Aces. It’s been five years, and a lot has happened in those five years, but when they sit down in the corner they always used to sit in, it feels like no time has passed at all. 

“Dude,” Kent says. “When did all of this happen?”

“My agent found out about it a while ago. They knew Ferris was going to retire and they were looking for someone new,” Jeff says. “I didn’t really think it was the right thing for me, I mean, but I guess it’s just talking about hockey in the end. Apparently they liked my personality.”

“I’m sure they liked bringing you back to Vegas, too,” Kent says. 

Jeff’s lips twitch. “Probably should have given you a heads-up, but they were asking me to keep it under wraps for a bit.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I just thought I was hallucinating for a second there.”

“I didn’t even know you were gonna be there,” Jeff says. “It’s good to be back, though.”

“Have you moved already?”

“Nope, I’m technically not starting before the next season. They just wanted to make the announcement now. Guess they wanted to make the off-season a little more exciting.”

“Excuse you, the Teeny-Tiny Aces are very exciting,” Kent says. 

“They’re adorable. Especially that one kid who kept coming back to you for fist bumps. She was my hero.”

“She deserved all of them.”

“I’m sure,” Jeff says. “You staying here for the rest of the summer?”

“That’s the plan. I went to Mexico with a bunch of the guys and I went to see my mom, but yeah… My trainer’s here and, you know, this is home now.”

Jeff hums. 

“Are you headed back home?”

“Nah, I mean, I spent a whole year at home. I’ll be here for a bit, find myself a house, then I’ll move, pick up Panda. That kinda stuff. I’m probably gonna have to drive down with Panda. He’s not gonna be happy if I try to put him on a plane, because he’s a big baby.”

“Your big baby is the only dog I like,” Kent says. Even though he chirped Jeff for several months because he thought that calling his dog Panda was a good idea. 

“He knows that and he appreciates it.”

Kent grins. “So where are you staying right now?”

“A hotel,” Jeff says like it makes perfect sense. “Parse, come on, stop giving me the stink eye. I did think about calling you, but I told you, they didn’t–”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Kent says. “I can keep a secret, you know?”

Jeff only looks at him for a moment, then he says, quietly, “Yeah, I know that.”

Kent purses his lips. He knows that Jeff trusts him, just as much as he trusts Jeff, but maybe he’s been a bad friend during the last couple of years. It became obvious pretty soon that they couldn’t stay in touch as much as they wanted to once Jeff had been traded, but maybe Kent didn’t make as much of an effort as he could have. 

Then Jeff got sick and Kent tried to be more supportive, but there’s only so much he could do when he was pretty much all the way across the country. 

“I’m glad you found something,” Kent says. He felt terrible for Jeff when he called Kent and told him that he’d be announcing his retirement the next day. No one wants to retire halfway through their career. If Jeff had been healthy, there’s a good chance he would have been able to play for another ten years or so. 

It doesn’t seem fair, especially when it’s a guy like Jeff who gives everything for his team.

“Well, I’m glad you re-signed last year. Good to know that I already have someone to hang out with.”

Kent smiles at him, but he doesn’t like the feeling in the pit of stomach. It feels too familiar and it feels like a warning.

*

About a week later, Kent gets a text from Jeff.

It’s just an address, nothing else. The street name sounds vaguely familiar. The reason for that, Kent finds out once he puts it into his GPS, is that he drives past that street constantly on the way to the rink. 

He gets into his car and turns up the music. He arrives after two and a half songs. It’s a nice house; it reminds Kent a lot of the one Jeff and Sunny shared back in the day. He parks out front.

The door is wide open and Kent walks up to it, peering into the house. It doesn’t look like anyone’s there. “Hello?”

“Parse?”

“Yeah.”

Jeff comes running down the stairs with Panda at his heels. “Hey, you came!”

“Uh, sure. Kinda seemed like the set-up for a murder in the woods, but I figured we’re in Vegas and you can’t really commit a murder behind a cactus.”

Jeff laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. He looks happy. Kent isn’t sure if he could look happy if he had to retire at 29. His 29 th birthday is next year and he can’t even imagine stopping now. He’s playing his best hockey. Jeff was playing his best hockey, too. 

Panda comes running over to Kent, circles him, tail wagging, but obediently sits when Jeff tells him to. 

“Hey, you,” Kent says and pats Panda’s head. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Have you been a good boy?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeff says. 

Kent smiles down at Panda. He’s a border collie; Jeff got him right after he’d been traded to New York. He really is the only dog Kent likes. He’s just really not a dog person and there’s no way he’ll ever love a dog more than his Princess, but Panda can stay. 

“So,” Jeff says, “what do you think?”

“This your new place?”

“Yep. Bought it a couple of days ago, flew home, picked up Panda…”

Kent looks around. The house is completely empty safe for a few boxes that are stacked up beside the staircase. “It’s, uh… empty.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of the furniture they had in here when I looked at the place. They were trying to sell it to me with all of it, but… nah.”

“Sure, no furniture is better than ugly furniture. Sleeping on the floor is fun.”

“I bought a blow-up mattress and a sleeping bag,” Jeff says with a shrug. 

Yep, that’s very much a _Jeff_ thing. Jeff likes camping and fishing and being on boats and sleeping in the wilderness. Air mattress? Probably Jeff’s ideal bed. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Jeff goes on, smiling at Kent. “I’m gonna get real furniture soon.”

“Have you picked it?”

“I will.”

Kent snorts.

“I have the whole summer,” Jeff says with a shrug. 

Kent hums and looks at the bare walls. He wonders if Jeff is going to put up the photos he had up in New York. Team pictures, but not the official ones. The ones from their Cup parade, and from his first NHL goal and his first game in New York. There was one of Jeff and Kent, walking together, arm and arm, an Aces flag wrapped around both of them, beers in hand, and it has always been Kent’s favorite picture of them, because whenever he looked at it, he could remember how he felt that day so clearly. He could almost feel the sun on his face and Jeff’s hand on his shoulder. 

Maybe it’s in one of those boxes over by the stairs, but it really looks like Jeff only brought the essentials. 

“Do you want a tour?” Jeff asks.

“Of your completely empty house?”

“I have a kitchen.” Jeff points at a big cushion on the floor. “And that’s Panda’s bed. See, I have two things.”

Kent nods. “And an air mattress.”

“Yeah, the air mattress is actually the highlight of the tour.”

“Can’t wait to see it,” Kent says and strides towards what he assumes is the kitchen. 

Jeff and Panda follow at his heels. “Sure, just go ahead and give yourself a tour, I’ll just follow you around.”

Kent grins at him over his shoulder and almost walks into the wall instead of into the kitchen.

“That was… yeah.” Jeff nods. “Good to see that you haven’t changed at all.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m still successful and super hot, so good for me, huh?” Kent says and leans against the kitchen counter. 

“You’re literally covered in cat hair and I’m pretty sure you had chocolate ice cream at some point today, but sure. Super hot.”

Kent looks down at his shirt – Las Vegas Aces, black, with his number on it, covered in cat hair. There’s a dark stain on his shorts that is definitely chocolate ice cream. Kent smirks at Jeff. “Don’t tell me you’d say no to _this_?”

Jeff looks at him, his gaze slowly wandering down Kent’s chest, down his legs, and back up again, his eyes finally meeting Kent’s. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

Kent flips him off and stalks out of the room, not even for a second wondering if Jeff might have just lied to him.

They look at a bunch of empty rooms and eventually end up in Jeff’s bedroom. It looks like he has even more than just the air mattress. He also has a blanket, a pillow and two suitcases. “Impressive,” Kent says and flops down on the air mattress. It makes an annoying air mattress sound. Kent could never sleep here.

Jeff flops down next to him and Panda lies down next to the bed, realizing that they’re not going anywhere any time soon. 

“I like your empty house, Swoops,” Kent says.

“It’s a good house. It doesn’t have a pool, though.”

“Guess you’ll have to come over to my place every now and then.”

“I’ll bring food.”

Kent smiles up at the ceiling. That was always their thing. Jeff would come over, with a bunch of food, and they’d eat and play video games or watch movies, and then, during their last year together, they’d end up making out on the couch, and often enough they’d stumble into Kent’s bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. 

It took Kent a while to realize just how much he needed Jeff back then, how much he needed to not be alone, how much he needed someone he could be himself with. Truth is, he sometimes still needs someone like that. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” Kent says, his voice low. 

Jeff doesn’t reply, but Kent would bet an insane amount of money that if he looked over at him right now, he’d see Jeff smiling. 

“Hey, Jeff?”

“Hm?”

“How are you feeling?” Kent asks. He wasn’t going to ask the other day when they went out for smoothies, because they were in public and Jeff doesn’t even like talking about this shit in private.

“How am I feeling?”

“Yeah, you know, health-wise.”

“Dude, I’m totally fine,” Jeff says. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jeff reaches out to pat Kent’s arm. His finger stay curled around Kent’s wrist for a fleeting moment before he pulls away his hand again. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, what if I want to fucking worry about you?” Kent asks gruffly.

“Hey,” Jeff says. 

Kent takes a deep breath. Not the time to snap at Jeff. He knows better than that. “You never told me how bad it really was. You never talked to me about it.” And maybe that was Kent’s fault because he didn’t stay in touch as much as he should have, but they were still friends and Kent was worried about his friend. 

“Kent,” Jeff says softly, “I retired. That’s how bad it was.”

“I’m sorry,” Kent says. 

“I had a stroke. They caught it early enough that there was no damage or anything, but… everyone agreed that it was too risky.”

“Shit, you had a fucking stroke?”

“See, this is exactly why I didn’t tell you. Calm down. I’m fine.”

Kent really doesn’t give a crap how fine Jeff is now. He reaches out and takes Jeff’s hand. “ _Shit_.”

“Parse…”

“You tried to keep playing.”

“Yeah. I tried.”

“And it could have killed you,” Kent says. “You fucking idiot.” He tries not to think about Zimms lying on the bathroom room, looking very, very dead, and he tries not to think about Jeff looking very, very dead either. He doesn’t quite manage. 

Jeff squeezes Kent’s hand. “I didn’t wanna scare you. You’ve had your fair share of that.”

Kent lets out a slow breath.

Jeff’s thumb brushes over the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, though. That I didn’t tell you. You deserved to know.”

Kent blinks up at the ceiling. He’s not going to cry. He already cried when Jeff told him he was retiring last year. After Jeff had hung up the phone, obviously. Maybe it really is for the best that he didn’t know. 

*

Kent almost doesn’t recognize Jeff when he runs into him at the rink for the first time before the beginning of the season. 

All he’s been seeing all summer was Jeff in is flowery trunks, and Jeff with floppy hair, and Jeff in faded shirts, and Jeff in baseball caps. Now Jeff is in a tailored suit and his hair isn’t hanging into his eyes and he’s not slouching in a beach chair next to Kent’s pool. He looks good. Like he used to look before games.

Kent almost wishes he could take Jeff with him, walk to the locker room with him, like they always did when they were still teammates. 

They’re still a few weeks away from the start of the regular season, though. Kent is here for training camp; Jeff is here with the Vegas Sportsnet crew. He’s surrounded by Aces players, old teammates, rookies, and recent draftees. Greg is standing next to them, holding up his phone, his expression vaguely amused. 

Kent waves at them all and gives Jeff a pat on the back in passing. He finds a photo on Greg’s Twitter a few minutes later, Jeff grinning at Jamie Hanson, who was drafted last July. 

As Kent tapes his stick, pulls on his gear, ties his skates, he wonders what it might have been like if Jeff hadn’t been traded all those years ago. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten injured, he wouldn’t have needed that surgery, he wouldn’t have developed that issue with blood clots, right? Jeff never really explained his condition to Kent, but Kent can’t help but wonder. He can’t help but wonder if Jeff ever wonders. 

Greg and Jeff do a segment behind the glass while practice goes on and Kent lobs a puck their way every now and then, so Jeff won’t forget that he’s there. Jeff doesn’t even flinch. When they’re done, Jeff turns around and glares through the glass. 

Kent skates over and jumps against the glass, skating away laughing when Jeff makes a face at him.

“Are you gonna try to keep me from doing my job all season?” Jeff asks as he waltzes into Kent’s house that evening. He brought pizza. And Panda.

“Yeah,” Kent says and leads him through the house and out the back door.

“Great. Good to know.”

“I mean, where’s the fun in just… leaving you alone?”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Panda, come on, sit… Yeah, right there.”

Kit, curled up on one of the chairs out back, glares at Panda for being here, and then at Kent for allowing Panda to be here. 

“Anyway, remember Johnny who was the rinkside guy until like three years ago? You once bit into his mic.”

Jeff stares at him. “Shit, don’t ever try to eat my mic.”

“Please, I’m not nearly as gross as you.” Kent opens the pizza carton and takes a slice. “How are you liking it so far, though?”

“It’s fun,” Jeff says with a shrug. “I get to talk about hockey.”

Kent smiles. 

“I’m not a fan of the suits, but I was never a fan of the suits.” 

Kent really doesn’t get it, because Jeff looks like a fucking model in a suit, but he’s always been one to choose sweatpants and a shirt over anything else. Not that Kent doesn’t love his sweatpants, but he’d never complain about being expected to put on a suit before a game.

“You just need to up your game,” Kent says. “Get new suits.”

“I don’t think new suits will make me like them any better.”

“It’ll be less of a pain when people fawn over you,” Kent says and winks at him. He’s really not sure why he did that. Winking at Jeff? That’s a shitty move. He was just trying to be funny; he’s really not trying to lead Jeff on or anything. 

He just gets distracted by how ridiculously attractive Jeff is sometimes. And that’s okay. It happens. Kent needs to find a way to not let it show so much, though. Flirting with Jeff has always been so much fun, mostly because he could and didn’t have to worry about him getting the wrong idea. Jeff already knows that Kent is gay. He’s seen him naked. When he’s around Jeff, Kent has absolutely nothing to hide.

But they stopped sleeping with each other five years ago, so maybe the flirting isn’t exactly appropriate anymore. They’re different people, they’re in different places in their lives. They’re not kids anymore and Kent should know better.

Jeff thankfully only gives him an unimpressed look in return. 

*

“Hey… Hey, Parse!”

Kent stops in his tracks and turns around. Jeff is following him down the tunnel, waving at him. They’re having their practice at the arena today and Jeff is probably here to film a pregame segment with Greg. 

“Hey,” Kent says and lets Jeff catch up with him.

Jeff is wearing a new suit – it’s blue and it fits him so well that Kent wants to cry. And the terrible, horrible, not-good-at-all part of his brain also wants to peel him out of it. 

“Sorry,” Jeff says, “you look stressed.”

“I’m not,” Kent mutters. The only thing he’s stressed about is that suit. 

“Do you have anywhere to be?”

“Not… really.”

“You wanna head out and grab a bite? I’m done until later today.”

“Sure, yeah.” Kent says and they head to their cars together.

It’s pretty astounding how often they leave this place together, considering that Jeff isn’t even on the team anymore. 

They’ll leave together after practices and morning skates, after media availability and after games. Sometimes they go out to eat, sometimes they go to Jeff’s and watch a movie, sometimes they go to Kent’s and have a drink and fall asleep on the couch. Jeff has been joking about leaving a pair of sweatpants at Kent’s so he doesn’t have to keep wearing his suits when they hang out. 

Jeff didn’t end up doing that, but it seems that he always has sweatpants in his car. 

It almost feels like he’s back on the team, even though he’s not playing anymore. The other day, Kent found Jeff and Jamie in the hallway, Jeff giving Jamie a pep talk. They boys really love Jeff, but it seems that the young ones who’ve never actually played with him jump on chances to talk to him. 

Kent is honestly starting to wonder if they might see Jeff rejoin the Aces as an assistant coach at some point in the future. 

*

Kent spends Canadian Thanksgiving at Jeff’s house and Jeff spends American Thanksgiving at Kent’s house. Kent also invites him over for Christmas when Jeff tells him that he’s not planning on going back to Canada for the holidays.

On New Year’s Eve they end up in a bar in Seattle with a bunch of Kent’s teammates and Aces staff and Jeff’s colleagues. Kent has a couple of beers and nearly falls on his ass on the way to the bathroom. Jeff catches him and makes sure he gets back to his feet, and his hand lingers on Kent’s back for a few more seconds than strictly necessary. 

It’s not that Kent minds. Really, he’s actually a little disappointed when Jeff lets go of him. 

Before he falls asleep that night he tries to remember the last time he kissed Jeff and he can’t. He knows it was around the time Jeff got traded, but he can’t figure out if it was the night before, or if it was the day after. What they had was never serious, so they didn’t have a tearful goodbye, no last time that Kent pulled Jeff into bed with him. It was just over – that phone call ended it for them. 

It was a good, clean break. No questions left, nothing to talk about. They went back to being friends and Kent felt like he’d finally done something right.

Only now, five years later, having detached himself from the idea of ever playing, or even being best friends, with Zimms again, knowing that back then he was an emotional mess, that break doesn’t seem all that clean anymore. They never talked about any of it. Maybe they didn’t need to at the time. 

But now?

Now, Jeff keeps showing up at his house. And he’s there. And they’re hanging out. And Kent keeps finding excuses to touch him. 

Whatever Kent is feeling now should feel new, because he thought he’d done a pretty good job having no feelings for Jeff whatsoever back then. Friendly feelings, yes. Mushy, romantic feelings, no. Maybe he just didn’t notice, though. He was still thinking about Zimms so much that he didn’t have room to feel anything else. But now he has room. Enough room for a whole entire person. 

He just wishes that that person wasn’t Jeff. Because Jeff is kind and warm and he deserves someone who’s also kind and warm, and Kent is neither of those things. He still feels rough around the edges; he feels like he ends up destroying every relationship he’s in. 

The thing is, Jeff isn’t going anywhere. 

Kent can’t just stop thinking about him, because Jeff won’t fucking let him.

It’s in February, the day after the Aces’ Pride Night, that Kent finally can’t stop himself from asking anymore. They’re having dinner together – Kent picked it up on his way back from practice and conditioning. Jeff is taking care of the dishes and Kent is sitting on the counter, because he’s at his most helpful when he’s staying out of the way. 

“Do you remember the last time we kissed?” Kent asks. He spent the past five minutes staring at a photo of him and Jeff on the fridge. It’s from Jeff’s last season with the Aces and there’s a barely visible hickey right above Jeff’s collarbone. 

Jeff freezes with a plate in hand and frowns at Kent. “What?”

“I can’t remember,” Kent says. He’s pretty sure that Jeff heard him and that he’s just confused that Kent is bringing it up. Kent is honestly a little confused, too, because this is dumbest question he’s ever asked and he should have just kept on living his life without knowing. 

“Um,” Jeff says and puts down the plate. “It was before I left.”

“I know, but…”

There’s something very complicated happening on Jeff’s face right now, and he looks like he’s not sure if he wants to look at Kent or at the sink. He eventually goes for the sink. “You were still in bed and I was heading out and I kissed you.”

“Right.”

Jeff turns to look at him. “You don’t remember at all, huh?”

Kent shakes his head. He wishes he could, but all he remembers is that strange black hole that was suddenly in the pit of his stomach that made him feel sick. He remembers not wanting Jeff to leave. He remembers wanting to pull him back into bed with him, and hold him, and tell him that he couldn’t just go. 

That’s what he remembers. 

“Huh,” Jeff says and keeps putting away dishes.

Kent can’t shake the feeling that he just did something stupid.

*

Kent is already in a kind of _I have given up on life_ mood when Jeff shows up at his house in the middle of March. 

“Are you wearing a bathrobe?” is the first thing Jeff says to him when Kent opens the door.

He is wearing a bathrobe and it has cats on it, but that really doesn’t matter right now. “Listen,” Kent says and pulls Jeff into the house, “I recorded your pre-game show and I heard you trash-talk me and you’re fuckin’ lucky that I’m even letting you into my house.”

“I wasn’t–”

“I don’t wanna hear your excuses,” Kent says and stomps back to the couch, where Kit is waiting for him.

Jeff follows him quickly. “Parse, come on, all I said was–”

“You said that we were in danger of losing our playoff spot if we didn’t start winning games soon.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s _mean_.” 

“And it’s true,” Jeff says. “And you know that it’s true.”

Kent glares at him. Of course he knows that it’s true. So far, Jeff has been really nice about the team, though. He’s the diplomatic one after all. When someone makes a mistake, he doesn’t get stuck on talking about that one little thing; he moves on and finds something good to talk about. 

“Everything okay in the locker room?” Jeff asks. 

“Well, everyone’s scared that we’re never gonna win a game again,” Kent replies testily. “It doesn’t help when all they read and see is that we’re tanking. And before you say, ‘But you are,’ just let me remind you of that losing streak we went through the year we won the Cup. It was bad. And you were moping for like a week, because the media were horrible.”

“I know, I get it.” Jeff sits down next to him. “I still have to do my job, though.”

Kent sticks out his bottom lip. 

“Why did you record the pregame show anyway?” Jeff asks. “You always said you hated _that annoying blabbering_. You never read what they said about you in the media.”

Kent huffs. He recorded it because of Jeff, but Jeff probably already knows that, so Kent doesn’t need to tell him that. 

“I’m sorry, bud,” Jeff says and wraps his arm around Kent. 

Kent wiggles, not sure if he wants this hug, because he’s still grumpy, but he’s always been weak for hugs. He leans closer and then he can feel Jeff’s chin on the top of his head, and for about two seconds it feels like everything’s perfectly fine. 

Then reality creeps in again, but Jeff keeps hugging him and Kent doesn’t tell him to stop. 

*

They clinch a playoff spot when they win their last home game of the season. They still have two games to go on the road, but when Kent scores the game winner at the end of the third, those two games don’t matter at all. 

In the locker room, the boys are celebrating like they just won the Cup. It really looked like they weren’t even going to make it this far for a while. 

Kent does postgame interviews and gets ready to head out, but before he drives home, he wants to talk to Jeff. They usually do some postgame analysis after the end of the game, but Jeff should be done by now. Kent asks around, because there’s likely not a single person in this place who doesn’t know Jeff, but no one has seen him. 

He eventually gives up and makes for his car; he usually doesn’t leave this late, so his car is looking pretty lonely now. 

Once he gets home, he checks his phone and finds a text from Jeff – _I’ll meet you at your place_. 

Now, Kent doesn’t exactly wait by the door. He goes upstairs and gets out of his suit and spends some quality time with Kit, he also tries to empty his dishwasher, but he keep turning around to look out the window, just to see if someone might be pulling into his driveway. 

When Jeff’s car does finally show up outside his window, Kent almost drops a cup. He manages to catch it, sets it down and then speed-walks to the front door on socked feet to peer outside. 

“Hey,” Jeff says as he gets out of his car. He clearly dropped in at home to change into a soft pair of sweatpants and an old Aces shirt. It feels like it’s March 2013 and Jeff followed him here after a game to fall into bed with him. 

Kent wants that back. He wants to fall into bed with Jeff, and he wants to wake up next to Jeff, and he wants to do that over and over and over again. And he wants to allow himself to really feel it this time. 

Kent doesn’t say, _Hey_. 

He doesn’t say anything. He waits until Jeff is close enough and then he wraps his arms around him and holds on so tight that it makes Jeff laugh.

“Congrats,” Jeff says. “I said nice things about you on TV today.”

“Thanks,” Kent mutters into Jeff’s shirt. “I didn’t record it.”

Jeff runs his hand up and down Kent’s back. “Come on, Parse, let’s go inside.”

“Jeff.”

“What, do you wanna stay out here all night?”

Kent takes half a step back, his hands still at Jeff’s sides. “ _Jeff_ ,” he says again. He’s trying to say something here, but he already knows that he won’t manage. “Shit.”

“You okay?”

“No,” Kent says, “I’m not, because you’re…” He grabs a fistful of Jeff’s shirt with one hand and lifts the other to cup Jeff’s cheek and if Jeff isn’t catching on at this point, then maybe Kent should go back inside and leave Jeff out here. 

Jeff’s hand stills on Kent’s back and his eyes are wide and the look on his face is fond. “Are you sure about this?”

Quite frankly, Kent has never been this sure about anything. He wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t, because Jeff deserves someone who’s sure about him, and Kent wasn’t ready to be that person five years ago.

He stands on his tiptoes and Jeff pulls him closer and Kent kisses him right outside his front door. It’s late, and it’s dark, and it’s quiet. For a few minutes, Kent doesn’t worry. He doesn’t overthink. He doesn’t wonder if he’s doing the right thing. He kisses Jeff, fingers in his hair, Jeff holding him close. 

Their kisses fade into breathless laughter and Kent reaches behind himself to open the door. “Now we can go inside.”

They’ll spend a lot of time behind closed doors, like they used to, but Kent won’t soon forget that this time it all started out here.

*

“Kent…”

The mattress dips, and Kent groans. “Already?” he grumbles. He lay down for his pregame nap about five minutes ago. Or at least that’s what it feels like. He timed it so Jeff could wake him up before he headed out.

Jeff has a meeting before the game tonight. It’s the Aces’ home opener. First game of the regular season. Apparently that’s special or something.

“You heading out?” Kent mumbles.

“Yeah, in a couple of minutes.” Jeff climbs into bed beside him. He’s wearing a shirt and a tie that Kent picked out for him during the summer. “Here,” Jeff says and hands Kent a tie that definitely didn’t come out of Kent’s closet.

“For me?”

“Lucky tie,” Jeff says. 

“Yeah?”

Jeff nods. “Yeah, because I say so.”

Kent laughs and takes the tie. “Okay, then.”

“I’ll see you after the game,” Jeff says and reaches out to run his fingers through Kent’s hair. “Score some goals so I can say nice things about you, okay?”

“Hey, you gotta say nice things about me anyway,” Kent says. “I’m awesome.”

“I don’t wanna sound like I’m biased, though.”

“But you are.”

“I’m trying really hard not to be.”

“But you’re supposed to be. You’re working for the _Vegas_ network. You’re supposed to love and support me. And the rest of the team. But mostly me. I’m pretty sure that’s in your contract.”

“Yeah, it totally is,” Jeff says and leans in to give Kent a soft kiss before he climbs back out of bed. “Gotta go.”

“Hey, Troy,” Kent calls after him, “I’ll give you five bucks if you say that my ass is great on TV again.”

Jeff turns around and keeps walking backwards to the door. “I did not say that.”

“You said in weird reporter speak, but that’s definitely what you were saying.”

“Sure, if that makes you feel better,” Jeff says. 

Kent rolls over and makes sure his ass is in good view. “Sure does.” He hears Jeff laughing as he walks out the door. 

Kent smiles into his pillow. He should probably record Jeff’s pregame show. Just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!


End file.
